Ben stopped gushing over Slade, long enough to start yelling at the towering meathead. The Vin soldiers standing behind Ben appeared to be caught off guard. They jumped up and drew their bows, aiming at the giants behind Slade. Yet before a single arrow could be released, a barrage of purple stones struck them from behind. The Vin with the eye patch standing next to Slade didn't lift a finger to help his tribesmen.
Ferschall gripped Leon’s arm, “Deceit within deceit! Patience Leon but be ready. We must find the right moment!”
The ambush was over quickly. Ben broke away from Slade and his men, belatedly yelling at the Fae to stop the attack. He stepped over a dead Vin as he approached the obvious leader of the giants.
The rain fell in a solid mist, but Leon could still clearly make out the scene around the fire. Cold cruel eyes looked down on Ben from a pale blue-skinned face, painted over in black splotches, appraising his every move as he drew near. The giant and his men all wore their blue-gray hair long and loose in heavy knots. The giant’s chests and legs were enveloped in thick furs. Even still, muscles bulged where fur failed to cover.
Ben ignored the obvious danger oozing from every pore of the leader standing before him. He spread his arms wide and looked up at the expressionless behemoth as he spoke in an authoritative voice. He was talking in the Fayden tongue and his grasp of the language sounded almost native! Leon caught Slade making a motion to the giant from behind Ben's back. Then, as if swatting a fly, the giant swung a club that looked to Leon to be the size of a drive shaft from a hay tractor, caving in Ben's chest with one mighty swing.
Everyone in the clearing below stopped what they were doing. Ben's knees hit the ground a second later, and he crumbled, face first, spitting blood the whole way down. The giant, at last, thundered out a retort, using a few words from a guttural language Leon had never heard. One of the men behind Slade answered the giant in the same language.
Leon heard deep rumbling laughter from the remaining giants, most of which had spread throughout the clearing.
The traitor, Slade, stepped up and motioned for Ben's remaining two men to stand down. Then called out to the remaining Fae, "Drop your weapons. Let’s talk things over, we’re all on one team now!"
Ferschall decided to act in the moment, “Now! The Fae won’t take orders from non-Fae! We attack now! I’ll go left, Dimples right, Leon, you and your animals hit them straight on.” and with that, they were racing down the mountainside.
As Leon dodged boulders and hurdled bushes with Merle at his side and Ahab and Westley swooping down from above, he could see glowing Fae stones bouncing off the hardened skin of impossibly large men. Rain clouded his eyes, and he squinted through the moisture, pushing himself recklessly faster.
Any of the remaining Fae who dared attack the giants with swords were immediately cut down by large clubs before they could move close enough within range to land a single blow. The one-eyed Vin and the Fae with Slade trained their ranged weapons on the remaining Fae and joined in the massacre. They saw Leon and his friends well before any of them were noticed by the giants.
Even sprinting at full tilt, he didn't fail to miss seeing Slade slink back into the shadows of the trees before the up-close fighting could really kick off. A few seconds later, he saw what looked to be some type of messaging flare shoot up above the tree line, from the woods where Slade had vanished.
He's calling back up!
He did his best to ignore the flare messages. There was nothing Leon could do about Slade. When he saw a number of the giants move toward the rest of the defenseless prisoners, his Blade pulsed, permeating him to his core with an unyielding feeling of true purpose and power. Something snapped together in his mind, bringing new clarity. There before him was a true enemy.
The giants weren’t of Fayden heritage. They seemed off in some intangible way, twisted beyond the inherent disease that afflicted his people. The power in his Blade surged as he closed in proximity to their tainted presence.
For him, there was no longer any hesitation, no uncertainty in his path. He wasn’t racing toward vengeance. He didn’t nurse a need to make anyone pay. He simply saw the necessity to protect those he cared about from the pure malice before him. It was him or them, and the lives of his friends and loved ones hung in the balance.
He gripped his Blade tight against the palm of his hand. Strangely, its warm presence was the only thing that made sense to him anymore. He sent a pulse through his gift to his animal friends.
Defend the prisoners, attack the giants!
As he came bounding across the clearing and over the burning pyre at the center of camp, he announced his presence with a roar of defiance that rattled the ground under his churning feet. Even the giants paused to take a second look. Then, just as the leader closest to him lifted an arm to batter him down as he had Ben, Westley’s talons raked down across those hateful eyes.
Leon wasted no time. He was so tied into his animal companion he had been expecting Westley to intervene just when he did. As such, he had never stopped moving forward. His leaped up at the last moment and buried his Blade to the hilt, straight up and under the giant’s chin.
Before the first behemoth fell to the ground, Leon spun himself into the guard of the next two. They hadn’t yet noticed their chief lay dead. Instead, they were busy staring up with concern as an adolescent griffin, the size of a full-grown jaguar came screeching down out of the night's sky.
Before they could even raise their clubs to batter him away, Leon’s Blade was there. He sliced tendons and severed arteries. Skin that had been as hard and unyielding as stone under the attacks of the Fae soldiers moments before held no challenge for the edge of the Blade in his hands. Large bodies fell, shaking the earth all around him.
Two more broke away from the main group still battling the Fae and charged to their aid. They had seen the ruse he used with his winged friends and kept their heads down, eyes focused on him. Yet they failed to account for one other ace up his sleeve. Merle.
Leon’s old ranch dog had been growing for months. His sizable mass either came from exposure to the new world or due to Kyra’s gift or both, but for whatever reason, Merle would push the scales closer to the size of a full-grown male lion. He plowed into one of the two charging man-mountains, gripping a club arm within his vice-like jaws and whipping his head from side to side. They tumbled down together.
That left just one for Leon to deal with all on his own. The giant slowed as he drew close. He too carried an oversized club brimming with spikes on the end. He was angry but cautious. Leon could tell he wouldn’t be underestimating the ferocious little man before him. He circled to the right, but Leon couldn’t allow anyone to come between him and those sitting defenseless behind him, so he attacked him head-on.
His first move was a feint and a pivot he had learned from his time with Kyra. The giant didn’t bite. Still, Leon managed to catch the shaft of the club with his Blade before a backhanded strike could build momentum. It was a monumental struggle to hold off the giant's unyielding strength. In the end, he simply couldn’t match the power. Even with both hands supporting his Blade, the giant forced him back down onto a knee using just one arm, then he backhanded him with the other.
Leon stumbled back several more steps, landing in amongst the still bound prisoners. He couldn’t see any of his friends from where he fell, but Kyra's voice came to him from behind, “Leon, don’t try to overpower them, use the Blade’s strength, let it do the work.” She washed away any doubt that was slowly creeping into his mind as he struggled back into a crouch.
He wiped away the trail of blood trickling down his nose and smiled without taking his eyes off the now laughing giant. “I love you, no matter what happens. You know that, right?” He didn't wait for an answer, didn't need one.
Then he charged back into the fight. He could vaguely hear her shouting his name and returning his love from behind, but his focus was honed on what was out in front.
The giant took a ste
p back and held his club up, like a major league slugger getting ready to punish a walk-off homer. Leon stutter-stepped to the left and dove into a feet-first slide to the right, on the backside of the giant. The whoosh of the spiked ball passed just inches above his head. Then, before he slid entirely past, he turned his Blade and severed the Achilles tendons on both enormous feet. The giant fell to his knees screaming in agony and Leon wasted no time in jumping to his feet and putting an end to the big fellow’s agony.
When Leon turned to confront his next opponent, he was face to face with seven more. While he had been fighting the others, they had apparently mopped the floor with the remaining Fae. There were no smug looks of disdain. No laughter. They backed him up until his back was to the cliff below. Then, one of them stabbed him in the leg with a long, wicked looking spear, while the next closest drew his club back for the coup de grace.
The pain in his leg was sharp but he ignored it as best he could. With nowhere to go and no time to block the final swing, he did the only thing he could do, he forced his grimace into a smile and raised his Blade in a silent taunt. He wouldn’t go down cowering to the monsters before him, and he sure wasn't gonna waste a good one-liner on them either.
Then, a blur of motion took on the form of a man, dropping down from above. Ferschall kicked the spear back out of Leon’s leg as he barreled in amongst them, causing Leon to stumble to the side. The old man caught the giants club with his Blade, and Leon was free to roll out of the circle.
Yet the strength of the blow crumbled the double-handed block Ferschall used to defend himself. The spiked ball on the end of the club was only partially deflected by the Blade. It still sank deep into his belly with a wet thunk. It was quickly torn free. Another giant backhanded Ferschall and the old man tumbled backward, stumbling off the cliff and into the dark chasm below.
"Ferschall!" Leon screamed out his name, but the sacrifice had already been paid. Ferschall was gone.
Leon didn’t have time to think, he continued stumbling back out of the path of two more descending clubs, racing to create more space. Ahab dove through the ranks of those pursuing him, distracting them enough to give him some much-needed room to breathe. Then he took a sidestep and a hop when someone bumped his shoulder from behind.
Dimples caught him before he fell. The man gave Leon a bloody grin that spoke volumes. Something told Leon the Hootsi would no longer need to seek justice against Ben’s two remaining men. Someone had managed to slice him from the outer corner of his eye to the bottom of his cheek, but he was still standing, more than Leon assumed could be said for Gunther or Griggs.
There was no need for words. Their battle was only half-done, and they hadn’t killed enough giants to free their friends. Together they faced the inevitable, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat, even as it bore down on them with cold indifference in the eyes of the brutes before them.
# # #
Their standoff was a tense moment that dissolved all too unexpectedly.
Ahab came screeching down like a missile once more, heading directly for the giant fighting Merle, further back from the main group. Only, instead of veering off this time like he had before, the griffin struck the giant square in the face, simultaneously raking his back claws into the giant's eyes, and clawing deep furrows into its neck with his talons. His wings folded up over the head and shoulders. The big fellow fell to his knees, keening in agony, arms still locked in his struggle with Merle.
Then Ahab broke free, spinning nimbly from his face, just before a wild swing from the club of one of his comrades could connect. Instead of dispatching the griffin, the club ended the agony of the lacerated giant.
At that moment, an arrow connected with one of Ahab's wings. The griffin fell hard but managed to scamper into the safety of the trees before being caught. Leon spun around to see who had fired the arrow and felt cold malice creep back into his heart when he saw the Vin Ranger with the eye patch, walking back out into the firelight alongside Slade.
Merle followed Ahab off into the woods and out of reach. Two of the giants holding spears took off after them. Leon knew they would lose their pursuers in the wooded terrain and circle back soon enough. He steadied his resolve on those left before him. By that time, the Vin had an arrow trained on Leon, just waiting on Slade to give him the word.
No one expected the two giants to come bursting back out of the woods almost as soon as they had entered. Behind them was one angry, bloody, mountain of a bear. Riding above him, right into the middle of camp, was Daz Stonebreaker, and following behind was Rezz, slinging arrows mid-stride.
Forgetting Leon and Dimples for the moment, Slade, the Vin, and all the giants turned to face the new threat. Daz leaped from the saddle as Grumpy caught the first of the two fleeing giants from behind. He let loose one of his gifted roars, which momentarily stunned the group of opponents clustered before them.
Dimples wasted no time scrambling up the back of the nearest opponent and burying his Blade into its meaty neck as the big fella still struggled to regain coordination.
Rezz shouted some taunt at the pirate-eyed Vin, and arrows were soon flying between the former tribesman. They both dodged, zigging and zagging, and diving into the woods before disappearing.
Slade had already vanished again by the time Leon remembered to keep eyes on him.
That man's as slippery as a greased pig!
Over the din of the fighting, Leon heard someone calling his name, “Leon, the tree! Stop them from coming through the tree,” Dimples yelled.
Knowing his leg was busted, and he would be a liability, Leon turned and stumbled back toward the tree. The odds had evened up a bit, and he had no choice but to trust that his friends and animal companions could hold their own.
He didn’t pause to embrace Kyra. Both she and her brother were bound hand and foot with the crude chains of the Fae and there was only one way to buy them all the time they needed to free them, assuming Daz, Dimples, and Rezz came out on top. He simply continued to sluff forward on his good leg until he made it to the base of the Royal’s trunk. The swirling dark opening was somehow still open.
It was obvious Ben had done his homework if the solid chunk of bark on the ground beside him was any indication. He could smell the tangy wild scent of pine sap flowing out from the corners where it had been stripped. Perhaps doing it the right way added time to the portal's existence?
The hairs on his arms stood on end in such close proximity to the power of the portal. Leon halfway expected more men sharing Ben’s insanity to come marching through that darkness, right over the top of him, at any moment.
With Dimples taking out his two remaining witnesses for him, Slade would definitely take control, and with him in charge, there could be no telling what scheme he would try to enact. Regardless of how it played out afterward, Leon had no doubt he and all his friends would be instant collateral damage.
Only, he had no idea how to end the connection. He could try to stick the bark back up where it belonged, sealing the portal, but then those on the other side could simply create a new path. The tree was massive. Bigger even than the one through which they had arrived. He was still sorting through his options when a haughty voice from behind broke his concentration.
“Drop the Blade and turn around, you fool. You’re in my way, and I want to look you in the eyes when I end you for the trouble you’ve caused.”
Leon knew that voice. It was as slippery as it was arrogant. Though he'd only formally spoken to the man once, there was no way he could forget the disdain in his cousin Dirk's Fae accent. The man likely had no idea they were cousins and wouldn’t care if he did. But Leon had one last possible ace up his sleeve with nothing left to lose.
He hobbled around to face the son of the woman who ironically ended the lives of both his parents in the exact same spot where they now stood. The tip of Dirk’s sword pressed tightly against his neck, almost like he wanted some type of reaction from Leon so he might savor every ounce of fear and pain h
e could cause.
“You kill me, and you won’t be getting any more pretty rocks anytime soon. Let me live, and I’ll tell you where they are?” Buying time, he reached down with his free hand.
Dirk smirked back at him and put more pressure against his skin, causing blood to well up under the point of his sword. “That’s one secret you can take to your grave. Slade and I have a deal. I help him get established here, and he lets me hunt Fae there."
"What about your men?"
Dirk smiled an evil smile. "Those fools weren't my men, they were my mother’s pawns. Between Slade's GUN POW-DER here and my ability to increase power through the Fae in the world of the Remnant, we will reclaim the balance of power in both worlds.”
Dirk, it seemed, viewed Slade’s gunpowder as some type of magic. He also happened to be a hopeless narcissist who couldn’t help himself from gloating.
This guy has obviously never been to the movies.
“So, that’s your master plan, huh? Yeah, well, good luck with that. Slade had a deal with Ben, too. You saw how that worked out.”
Dirk ignored him and scoffed. “Any last words? I kind of want to hear you beg, though it won’t do you any good in the end.”
As carefully as he could, using Kyra’s promise cloth to protect his fingers, Leon reached into the one pocket that held several round items. He lifted his hand slow and easy, so as not to incite the young man holding cold steel to his neck, and gently placed a glowing stone on the flat edge of Dirk's sword. The man’s eyes grew wide, reflecting the amber light pulsing off the stone. “I bet Slade didn’t mention there are no more Fae left in our world? Reed was one of the last, if not the very last.”
Dirk shifted to study his eyes and read the truth behind Leon’s words. Then his focus returned to the stone. Leon saw a hungry look start to form where only disdain had been present moments before. He didn't notice the extra bulk resting within the fabric still wrapped around Leon's hand.
A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One Page 40